Dead Roses
by Branwynne77
Summary: Just figuring out what Wendy would be up to several years after the events in the Hard Goodbye. The first seeds of a story.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not my characters. All Frank Miller's. I wish, though. Just an imagining on what Wendy might be like long after Marv and Goldie's deaths.

Dead Roses

Ch. 1

Wendy knew Goldie always loved cool and crisp nights like this and she smiled, missing her twin. It seemed she always missed Goldie these days. On occasion, it hurt like a kick in the gut...knowing she'd never see the one person who would love her no matter what. The only satisfaction was that the freak Kevin would never 'eat' someone else again.

Four years since that night...and now Wendy came to pay her respects and to try to 'let' Goldie go. She felt it was time. Time to move on.

The wind ruffled the golden curls of Wendy's hair, making her tuck a lock behind her ear with some irritation. She tightened her coat around her and walked along the road that led to where her sister lay. She hated the cemetary in the daytime...it seemed more fitting to visit her at night. It was tranquil and quiet. And very private.

She held two white roses in her hand, the thorns poking but not puncturing her white skin. Wendy gulped, swallowing hard for some reason. Goldie wasn't the only one she came to remember.

Marv...that confusing, complex man who gave everything he could to see her sister avenged. She didn't know if Goldie loved him, but she did in her own fashion. He deserved more than to be treated like a rabid animal, deserved more than to die being 'blamed' for the deaths of those women. For Goldie. It made her frustrated not being able--or allowed-- to help him.

And when she saw him in jail--all alone--her heart nearly broke. She knew the truth. That man had the kind of honor worth more than gold. When he called her Goldie, she let him. And she let him take her in his arms...

The other graves were nothing to her as her eyes focused on the two in front of her...

This is a tease, I know. But I'm kinda nervous.


	2. Chapter 2

Wendy thinks...

It's so very lonely, Goldie. I keep expecting to see you sometimes. I can feel my lips twist into a forced smile–I'm sure that it's as cold and bitter as tonight is.

I lay the roses down on their graves, their memories haunting me fiercely. For a moment, I almost believe in ghosts. I let the flashes of barely remembered childhood wash through me...her smile and the way we used to protect each other when times got bad in Old Town...and they often WOULD get bad. The image of her face, I noticed, was starting to fade. Though if I look in a mirror...she's still there. That's given me only a little comfort through the years.

The more I remember, the more I realize that Marv was right; Goldie was the nice one.

"I...retired, Goldie." I tell the humble little stone that bears my sister's name. I lean down to trace her name with a slender finger. "I still work for Old Town...but I don't work 'men' anymore. Unless they fuck with the girls, of course."

I took out Gladys, something I got a cop to get for me. Sex works wonders with those of the male persuasion. And sex is one of the things I do best. "Ever since you two ...bought the farm, I've been different. Something in me changed."

I thought of what has changed. Yeah, not wanting to live. That's definitely changed; and that's one of the reasons I wanted the more dangerous job of 'protecting' the girls. Gail's said that I take unnecessary chances, that she doesn't want to bury me alongside of my sister.

I told her that maybe I want to die. I mean, everyone's gotta go sometime. Might as well die young and leave a beautiful corpse. My laughter came out of me in sharp, insane barks.

Gail looked at me with those dark piercing eyes of hers.


	3. Chapter 3

There was nothing she could do to change my mind and she knew it. "Wendy..we're all family here. We're all sisters." Gail, normally, was not the comforting type, but she would go through hell for any of her girls. Her fierce sense of loyalty kept us all feeling safe during the dark times. Not me, though. Not ever. I had always been independent, always been reluctant to rely on others. Except Goldie–my other self.

My fingers had tightened into a fist, the skin white with tension. "It's not the same, " I spit out, "as losing a twin." And the man I thought I felt something for. But I didn't add that. Wendy? Have feelings for a man, for all intents and purposes, killed several hookers? Yeah, that would've have gone over with the girls. Gone over like a lead balloon. Gail knew the truth, but for everyone's safety, it had been decided to let Marv take the blame.

I hated that. Every fiber of my being cried out against it. I thought Marv had paid enough, but even in death, he'd still continue to be the whipping boy of those who had really killed my sister. My heart railed at the injustice of it.

My attention came back from the past and fastened back onto the present. Her grave.

"There's gonna be bloodshed soon, Goldie. I can sense it in my bones." I hesitate for a second.. There was an electric current running through Old Town, and I hadn't been able to accuratelypinpoint who was causing it. It wasn't Old Man Rourk, the last of his family, thatmuch I knew. He had too much on his plate right now to be concerned with the Ladies. I hope he gets a case of lethal indigestion. "Trouble's brewing down in Old Town." This was a habit, coming out here, before what looked to be a fight. I always wanted to be ready to say goodbye, in case I didn't make it.

The wind bit me through my coat. Time to go. "See you two later."


	4. Chapter 4

Note to Self: Edit BEFORE publishing.

The Salesman...

The night is as cold and hollow as my heart. I catch a whiff of the oncoming rain, a smell that is both repellent and welcome to Basin City, easing the harshness of the ofttimes intolerable heat. Maybe the rain will help wash away the blood that is sure to come soon. Men, cruel men, with hearts that have lost the basic tenets of humanity long ago, will come here and rape what beauty there is in this town. If I were capable of anger, I'd be mad. I'm not mad, but I am capable of imitating passion and longing when the situation calls for it..

It'll be a damn crime to ruin such perfection for what the nameless men call progress. I pull out a smoke, watch as I light up, and inhaled deeply, the smoke filled my lungs and I slowly let the smoke into the night air. I muse as the cloud of gray slowly dissapates into the darkness.

I make no secret of the fact that I admire women. I admire their beauty and grace, their flawless and soft skin. The way the warmth of their body soaks through my suit when I hold them. I like talking to them and seeing them melt from my words or caresses, to look in their eyes as I kill them. I am a killer and a gentleman, two 'concepts' that do not seem to fit together, but it works for me.

I can't help but notice the lovely girls, usually so vibrantly on display, are nowhere to be seen in Old Town. That can only mean one thing. They've already caught a whiff of the decaying stench of trouble and they've already taken measures to ride out the storm. Good.

I wasn't here to take on the girls. I was here to find Wendy, a golden goddess with a heart of stone. I was here to watch the life in those green eyes of hers fade to oblivion.


	5. Chapter 5

Wendy...

I stop my car, but I hesitate at turning off the motor, which continued to purr like some mechanical cat. The girls were gone but there was an unmistakable hunger to the air. I grinned and Gladys eased into my free hand. I turn off the car.

I watch Miho patrol the rooftops, a nimble assassin whose skills are second to none. She's beautiful, deadly and scary. Her slender curves made a delicious silhouette against the moon, sword in hand. Flesh and steel, cruelty and beauty have all intertwined in her. To see her in action is like seeing poetry kill.

She never makes a sound, ever, and I believe that is the scariest thing about her.

I get out of my Porsche and look around. I see no one and I head up to Gail's quarters, my heels clicked on the stairs like a pronouncement of doom.

It's quiet. Too quiet, I tell myself as I walk down the hall to Gail's room. I kick in the door, Gladys in hand, and look around. I was shocked by the sight that kicked me in gut. Girls, the girls that I and Miho were supposed to protect, lay strewn across the room. Some had their clothes ripped, but most were...unmolested. Blood seeped into the carpet and began congealing, the dark crimson reflected the dull overhead lightbulbs.

I put my hand over my mouth. "God." I tiptoe through the room and force myself to look each girl in the face. Kyra, Terra, Denise, Rose... all of them were dead and glaring up at me with their accusing eyes. With a prayer of thanks, I knew that Gail wasn't among our girls. I found a ray of hope in the dim possibility she could be alive somewhere, plotting away with Dwight on how to get back at these bastards.

I hear a quiet voice behind me say, "I'm sorry about this, Miss. If it were up to me, things would be different."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for not updating. I've been in what I call the 'writer's funk'. Oh, and if you want to know how to get ahold of me, go to www.neuroticnonsense. (Thanks for the 'tense' advice. I'm keeping it in the past.)**

I heard the tart thwang of an arrow being released. I saw the body of Miho tumble through air and as she passed the window nearest me, our eyes locked together. _Get these bastards_, she seemed to tell me, then I knew she was lost to me. To Old Town.

"Want a smoke?" Those words poured out of his throat like aged whiskey. They were smooth but with just the right bit of edge to them, that jarred me out of my stupor.

"No. Thank you," My eyes were cold and brittle as they bored into him. "but I've got better things to do than hang around with you. I've Old Town to protect." As I brushed past him, he grabbed my arm and brought me closer to him. I inhaled the musky, masculine scent of his cologne. Thank god it wasn't some overly sweet odor. I think I would have puked all over that nice suit of his. Armani, I judged.

"Let me go." I said. "Or I'll blow your gonads off."

He just smiled down at me and a piece of metal was pressed at my waist. I knew it was a gun. A Beretta or a Glock, some part of me tried to guess. Probably a Beretta.

I started backing up away from him. My fingers had locked up and I willed them to relax enough so that I could have control over the trigger.

"You never do take the easy way out. Do you, Wendy?" Then he raised his gun and shot me in the shoulder as I returned the favor.

"The easy way out is for cowards." I watched with relish as my bullet penetrated his side. I stumbled backward and through a window. I screamed as I landed in my car and scrambled to put the key in the ignition while I trembled. I looked up to see that he wasn't staring down at me and I hurried to get the car running. I needed to get away, to get to someone that could help me. Mary. I had to get to Sister Mary.

I grimaced with pain as I sped off.


	7. Chapter 7

I knew that he meant to kill me; I just got a lucky break. I thanked God. I now had a reason to live. at least long enough to avenge Old Town and find out who these gentlemen were. His aim was off I cursed as pain ravaged my arm and I had to drive with one hand as I hoped to not pass out in the seat.

As I struggled to maintain clarity, I thought of Sister Mary. She was the abbess of the Divine Rose, a former nurse, and helped the Ladies on occasion. I remembered her as being a no nonsense woman who thought of Cardinal Rourk as a pompous blowhard. She was one of the last honest clergy in Sin City, yet she carried a pistol under her habit. I liked her a lot. My arm stung then lost feeling as I pulled up to the convent where she lived.

I trudged up the stairs and knocked on the scratched oak door. Blood soaked through my blouse then my coat. I stuck a finger into the bullethole to stop me from leaking like a sieve. Any little bit helps, right? I remembered thinking that before I called out for assistance. "Sister Mary! Help! It's Wendy."

A gruff woman who looked like a line backer for some football team, answered the door. "My Lord! Wendy, what happened to you?"

"People...killed the girls. Need...medical.." Then I passed out on the steps to the convent.


End file.
